Buying Love – Part 5

Sputnik shuffled from one hoof to the other, grinding the bit between his teeth. His mind was racing, his thoughts all blurring together. The grainy remnants of a sugar cube clung to the back of his tongue stimulating his salivary glands, and the aphrodisiac already doing its work on his achingly stiff cock.

“Easy there, stud.” Ian gave his butt a gentle tap with the crop. “You’ve been doing well, this is just going to be fun for you! Just… Hold your… Horses.” Ian chuckled unable to keep his intended deadpan delivery. Sputnik rolled his eyes as his handler doubled over in a breathless fit of giggles.

“Nervous much?” Rich poked his head through the door, the cheery twinkle in his eyes betraying his cool demeanor. “Pull yourself together, it’s showtime. Here you go, Sputnik.” Rich stuffed another sugar cube past the stallion’s bit and ducked back through the door from whence he appeared.

Sputnik gulped the sweet grainy treat down. That was the third energy-boosting aphrodisiac-laced serving he’d been given in the last five minutes. Guess they didn’t think he was horny enough. He huffed in frustration.

“Rrrffff!” A gentle nuzzle at his chest eased the stallion’s tension. Mascot wagged his tail, pawing affectionately at the horse’s flank. Sputnik couldn’t lower his head to return the nuzzles due to the think posture collar, but he nickered back.

Ian had finally caught his breath. He mopped at his brow with a rag. “Ok, you two calm down now. We have work to do.” With that, Ian pushed the curtain aside and nudged Sputnik to follow Mascot.

The Gymnasium had been converted into a massive indoor fairground. There was a podium with a stage and huge projection screens with amphitheater-style bleacher seats. Sputnik could see there was more, but his sight was still limited, and right now he was supposed to be following Mascot. Lucky stallion, following a few paces behind meant he could easily see the German Shepherd’s butt and wagging tail. They reached the podium and stepped up onto the pedestals as had been directed. Sputnik could hear applause, though his eyes were still stuck on his pup’s ass. He was really starting to feel the effects of those aphrodisiacs now, his cock felt so heavy. Watching Mascot’s tail wasn’t helping that at all…

Sputnik stood on all fours as he had been trained. He held as still as he could, aside from the twitches of his cock, and the occasional gnawing of his bit. The stage lights were bright, and as he got used to them the horse could see more of the stage, but still couldn’t see the audience.

Rich was at the podium, speaking into microphone about… Something. Sputnik was having trouble focussing on what was being said. His senses were overwhelmed, the lights, the horniness, his own excitement of being in the show, focus on maintaining his posture, the sight of Mascot’s stuffed puppy butt just feet in front of him. Whatever Rich was saying probably wasn’t too important anyway…

“…And here we have two fine examples of our products! We can create the perfect dogsuit for everyday wear.” As Rich spoke, Mascot’s pedestal slowly rose about a foot. Several spotlights shone up on him, and a live image appeared on one of the huge screens. The pedestal began to rotate slowly, to show the audience every angle.

On one of the other screens, a powerpoint slideshow of pictures of specific details, variations, accessories, and shots of Mascot at play cycled through as Rich provided an overview.

“In addition to dog training, we also offer equines as a custom option.” Sputnik gulped as his pedestal began to rise. The new spotlights were blindingly bright, instantly making the air hotter. The leather-clad horse began to sweat and drool more heavily as the table began to turn. As it came around, Sputnik could see his own pictures from last night on the massive screen too. The backgrounds had been very carefully photoshopped to various scenes of him pulling carts, plows, even a rider. Sputnik’s chest welled with pride at how fine he looked. He really was a model! The table continued to turn, and the huge live image loomed into view. Sputnik hadn’t seen himself in the suit before, and certainly not from the back. His ass looked so thick and muscular in the black leather, and he looked so powerful and masculine. The silver rivets sparkled like diamonds against the matt oxblood tack and satin black leather of himself under the spotlights. His cock was throbbing, visibly leaking with every twitch, and of course the constant drooling from his bit-gagged mouth was evident even from the back.

“Like with the dogs, we can offer any species or modifications as desired. A full range of custom accessories is also offered. Sputnik will be available for hands-on demonstrations all afternoon.” Rich concluded his speech as the two pedestals lowered back down. The spotlights dimmed, and the regular gym lights were brought back up to normal.

Sputnik blinked as Ian stepped up and lead him off the pedestal to a table. This time, he wouldn’t have to stand still unless specifically instructed to. This would be a hands-on time for interested customers to interact with him and inspect details. On the table with him were several accessories including the saddle, plume, and blinders from before, various crops, whips, and rein styles, several harnesses, bits, shoes, and tails as well. From where he was, Sputnik could see Mascot on a similar table of accessories. He was being petted by several men, wagging his tail and pawing in a friendly manner. Sputnik couldn’t help but feel envious of all those men petting and fawning over HIS pup! He growled on his bit.

Ian patted his rump. “Don’t worry, stud. You’ll get plenty of attention too, you’ll see!” Yet another sugar cube was fed to him. Much to his dismay, he could see an entire bucket of the little white treats, along with a sign encouraging admirers to ‘feed the horse.’

Sputnik didn’t have a chance to dwell on it for long. Two men approached, one was wearing a fitted t-shirt with the Fire Department symbol, showing off his hefty chest and biceps. He had salt and pepper hair and a trimmed goatee. The other man was a head shorter, slender build, and wearing jeans and a hoodie. They were talking as they approached the table.

“…Interesting stuff for sure. Look at this!” The Fireman smiled warmly as he patted Sputnik’s head. “You sure the police don’t want to bring the horseback cops out again?”

“Maybe.. You’d think a stud like this could convince them. Sharp should be along soon enough, we’ll suggest it.”

Both men fed Sputnik a sugar cube as they took turns looking over the accessories and inspecting the suit. Sputnik was distracted by the new surge of horniness taking its effect. He nuzzled the Fireman’s hard muscular butt with a pleading whinny.

“I think he likes you, Frank.” The slender man in the hoodie said teasingly. “You sure you don’t want a horse?”

Frank shook his head, easing another sugar cube into Sputnik’s mouth. “I wouldn’t mind this one. But you know the guys wanted a dog, and I have my heart set on a dalmation. Call me a walking cliche!” The two laughed.

Rich stepped up. “Hello again, Frank! Tristan, great to you again too! I suppose you’re here to find a pup? Is this the one you’re wanting for the station?”

“Yup!” Frank replied. “We finally caved. Looking for a dalmation for companionship during long shifts. Preferably well-trained, smart, insatiable sex drive, but also self-sufficient for a few hours at a time.”

“Uh huh,” Rich typed into his tablet. “I imagine you guys get pretty horny. Yup, well you’ve come to the right place. Why don’t we check out the play pen over in the next room, you can meet several pups and see what you think. Come on, I’ll take you there.”

Sputnik watched as Rich lead the firemen away. He shuffled his feet, turning away from the bucket of sugar cubes. Hopefully he wouldn’t be given too many more. He already felt too horny… He huffed at Ian, who was straightening up the display.

“What’s the matter, boy? Bored yet? You’ll get a break for water in a little while. Remember, the show runs all day so you can relax a bit to pace yourself. Speaking of which…” Ian picked up his own empty water bottle, and with a shrug he walked through the curtain to refill it. Sputnik rolled his eyes. He’d just have to get used to being horny now too.

“¡Oye! ¡Mira aquí!” A hand brushed over Sputnik’s mane. He looked up to find himself surrounded by eight hispanic-looking men, ranging in age from 25 to 40, all wearing suits. They all wore cowboy boots too. Most of them were very muscular, their dress shirts bulging at their pecs. The man petting him had a gold tooth.

“¡Sí, muy guapo! Que perno…” Sputnik didn’t know any Spanish, but he didn’t need to to understand that these men were very interested. He stood up straighter, and did his best to pose and strut as he’d been trained. The men took turns inspecting every detail of his suit, petting him all over, and even giving his cock some light strokes. They continued speaking in Spanish a kilometer a minute, mostly in excited whisper-level conversations.

“Woah, ok we got busy!” Ian had returned to a madhouse. “Does anyone speak English?” He asked to a sea of vacant stares. “No? Great…” He picked up his headset. “I need Rich, David, or Alden at the horse table. Pronto!”

Ian returned to the group wearing a flustered smile. The men continued to swarm around Sputnik, pointing and holding up various accessories. The youngest looking of the bunch seemed particularly interested in the shoes on Sputnik’s hoofs. He traced his finger along the curve, admiring the shiny metal.

“Tan sólido. ¿Como funciona?” He asked Sputnik. “¿Duele?”

Sputnik just huffed in reply. Even if he had any idea what was being asked of his horseshoes, he couldn’t really answer.

Two of the men had been looking over the various whips and crops, and were now testing them lightly on their palms. The one in the blue dress shirt held the crop, and was eyeing his friend with a devious smirk. His companion was wearing a black dress shirt, and bent over to look at a whip, when the crop swatted against his voluptuous ass.

“¡Ay! ¡Miguel!” He exclaimed. “¡Mierda!” He reached for a crop, but Miguel moved it away.

“¡Cállate!” Miguel grabbed one of the ball gags and shoved it into his friend’s mouth.

The gagged man had a look of complete surprise. “Mmmmmm!” He looked at Miguel, then at the table, gesturing wildly at the gag in his mouth. He instantly started drooling heavily around it.

Ian stepped up with a nervous chuckle to offer an explanation. “Ah, your friend here has discovered one of our newer offerings. These ball gags are designed to motivate and reward work horses. They are coated with an edible synthetic shell that is both flavored and scented. They also contain electrolytes, a mild aphrodisiac, and best of all won’t attract insects or spoil! Our test subjects all found it easier to swallow with the ball gag, than with the bit…”

Miguel looked confused, but not concerned. He looked down at the table, taking up one of the ball gags. “¿Qué?”

Ian picked up his tablet, pulling up google translate. He spoke as he typed with his finger. “The gags are color coded by flavor. Red is apple. Orange is carrot-orange. Yellow is banana-mango. Pink is candy. The marbled green and white is cucumber-melon…”

The men had gathered around, looking over Ian’s shoulder at the translation, all rubbing at the bulges in their pants. Miguel gave the pink gag he was holding an experimental sniff, and with a smile buckled it in his mouth. He and the other gagged man shared a few contented moans, and eyed each other as they tented in their pants.

“Delicious, aren’t they?” Ian stammered.

“¡El jefe!” The men pointed toward another man approaching the table. He wore a linen suit, with white boots, and had a fancy silver wristwatch. He was accompanied by Rich, to Ian’s obvious relief. Rich was nodding, typing fast into his tablet.

“Gracias…” Rich smiled. “¡Hola amigos! ¡Bienvenidos!”

The man with the fancy watch smiled as he approached Sputnik. “Buen caballo…” He grabbed a handful of the sugar cubes from the bucket, and gently eased them past the bit into Sputnik’s mouth. “¿Hambriento?” He turned to his companions, saying something in Spanish while nodding to Rich. Sputnik was graciously choking down the six sugar cubes he’d just been fed, while Ian caressed his throat.

“It’s ok, boy,” Ian whispered more for himself than for Sputnik. “We’re all ok… Here. These guys will want a demonstration, so you’ll get to stretch your legs.” Sputnik nodded eagerly.

Rich had the Latinos gather around as Ian prepared Sputnik to walk on two legs. Sputnik’s legs were released, briefly massaged, and then he was helped to his feet and led over to the tetherball post. He was hitched to a cart and with a encouraging swat from Ian, pulled the cart in a circle. He could hear Rich answering questions and explaining processes. Upon completion of the circle, Rich had him stop and he pointed out several features of the suit while the men continued to fondle and brush their hands over him.

The man with the fancy watch inspected each part of Sputnik as Rich pointed the features out. He nodded at his men, and with a smile said to Sputnik: “Yes. We like this very much!” His baritone speaking voice had a heavy Spanish accent, with a slight lisp. He turned to Rich and asked him something in Spanish. Rich’s eyes gleamed.

Rich stepped over and said to Ian. “We need to get measurements for all of them. David’s busy, so I need you. I’ve explained what they need to do. Can you take four of them?”

Ian nodded. “Sure thing. Sputnik will be fine here for a few minutes.” He looked apologetic. “This won’t take long. But I’ll give you a treat in the meantime. How does apple sound?”

Sputnik nodded, and one of the red ball gags was strapped to his bridle. Even before the large ball touched his tongue, he was surprised by the intensity of the apple scent and flavor. It was definitely artificial, but still very pleasing. Ian patted his head, and he and Rich took up their tablets.

“This is a good one,” Rich said. “We’ll need to consult with Alden on the design.”

“Eight custom horse suits…” Ian shook his head. “Wow.”

“Oh that’s not all! These guys are from a ranch… You’re going to lose your jizz when you hear what they want.”

Sputnik didn’t hear the end of the conversation before they and the latinos were out of earshot. Whatever Rich said it was, Ian popped a boner so hard that Sputnik could see it throb from across the room.

Sputnik wandered in the circle, trying hard to ignore the painful need of his cock. The flavored ball gag did indeed make swallowing easier, but the horny stallion wasn’t sure he wanted to swallow any more of the aphrodisiac however mild it was supposed to be. He held the ball in his teeth, allowing himself to drool down his chin. At least he wouldn’t be fed any more of those cubes.

Ian had been right about the dogs being popular. Sputnik could see several pups playing fetch and frisbee as a demonstration. Steel was on the accessory table now, but Mascot was nowhere to be seen. Sputnik scanned the room. Where did his pup go?

A strong tug at his reins brought Sputnik’s attention back to his own job. A nervous-looking Ian unhooked him from the cart and the post, and handed the reins to a broad-shouldered, barrel-chested man with short white hair. Sputnik could tell this man was military, and he oozed authority.

The man thanked Ian with a polite smile, and led Sputnik through the curtain, into a private room where he tied the reins to a rail, briefly patting the side of Sputnik’s neck. He then stood quietly, standing at his full imposing height, his eyes locked with the stallion’s.

“At ease, Mr. Wilson. This is an informal meeting, and I’m not that scary. Well maybe I am, but it depends on what scares you more. A retired US Navy Admiral, Commodore, and strategic advisor who still runs the show at the Pentagon. Or the man who is a father figure to the man you’re in love with.”

The Admiral paused, allowing Sputnik to process his words. “I understand you come from a military family yourself. Your father was in the Army reserves, your grandfather was an Air Force pioneer in his youth, and your brother is currently a drill sergeant at Fort Worth, all fine people with fine careers. Exemplary in every way. As for you, I’ve also had the best psychoanalysts in the world watching your every move, via the cameras in every room in this facility.” The Admiral nodded to the ceiling.

“We know more about you than you do…”

Sputnik gulped. The Admiral’s face lightened a touch, the hint of a smile on his chiseled face.

“Mr. Wilson, I’ve been informed that you’re a good man. I want to make sure Alden is in good hands, I’m sure you understand I care a great deal about him. That said, you have both my approval and my blessing. But know this, if you hurt Alden, if you break his heart, or wrong him in any way… I’ll escort you with a one-way ticket to a place so horrible that Hell itself looks like a day spa. But I’m sure it won’t come to that, Mr. Wilson. You are a good man.”

Sputnik drooled. Words and thoughts weren’t forming properly. The Admiral seemed nonplussed as he took Sputnik’s reins and walked him back out into the gymnasium to Ian.

“He’s a fine horse. I’m sure you’re all very proud.” The Admiral nodded with a smile, and took his leave. Sputnik watched as he was shown through a doorway with several uniformed men, all who saluted.

Ian brought Sputnik behind the curtain where the drinking fountains and water bowls were.

“Go ahead, drink up. You’ve definitely earned it…” Ian sat down on the bench, rubbing his temples with one hand and the bulge at his crotch with the other. “Fuck meeeee, these events get one so… Riled up, you know? Still have a few hours to go…”

Sputnik enjoyed the freedom of his legs for only a few moments more before they were folded back up and he was on all fours again. Some Canadians stopped by to admire him, and a few leathermen inspected the whips, flogs, and heavy-duty posture collars on display. There seemed to be a bit of a lull in activity as Sputnik looked around. Even Steel was sitting idly on his table, and Ian appeared to be playing a game on his tablet. Mascot was nowhere to be seen in either of his incarnations. Sputnik swallowed a big mouthful of apple-flavored drool, forgetting about his initial wariness of the aphrodisiacs. He needed something to do to entertain himself. Normally he’d just go for a run, but here he… Wait. Of course he could! He stretched himself before hopping off the table and trotting over to his little cart track. He could run all he wanted to following the marked path.

A small crowd gathered to watch as Sputnik galloped in his circle. As he raced by, he heard a cheer. He huffed proudly, knowing they were all cheering for him. The race horse. And he was going to give them a show! He worked himself up, feeling his cock slap against his belly and his aching nuts bounce against his thighs, and the drool spraying down his chin with every huff. With the ball gag in place holding his jaw open, he had to hold his head higher and stiffer to keep the collar from digging into his throat. He’d never imagined what a huge difference two degrees in angle would make.

Excited voices, these with British accents suddenly reached the stallion’s ears.

“I’ll wager he can beat the clock. A full circle in…”

“Fifteen seconds!”

“Ten!”

“20 pounds that he can do fifteen but not ten!”

“25 pounds that you’re wrong!”

“30 pounds and a night in my stable that I win!”

“Whatever the equivalent is in US dollars, and a load of gear for the winner!” A southern drawl cut in.

Sputnik could hear the betting. He couldn’t see the clock, but he knew he could work into a sprint quickly. He picked up the pace. The bit gag had been much easier to breathe through for this…

“Aha, he did fifteen! 50 pounds he’ll best ten.”

“US dollars he won’t…”

“Pounds!”

“Dollars!”

“Pounds!”

“Dollars!”

“Oh pay up, Yankee! He’s done it in nine!”

“Bet he can’t do it again twice in a row!”

“Bet he can!”

“HEY!” Rich’s voice stopped everything. Sputnik slowed to a quick stop with heavy neigh. “NO BETTING HERE!!” Rich boomed through a megaphone. He smirked as he turned down the volume. “We’ll provide prizes for the winners. But let’s have some real fun!” He whistled, and Steel padded up beside Sputnik. “Those betting on the horse stand to my right, those for the dog to my left!”

“Now we’ll have right proper race!” The first British man exclaimed.

“Woof!” Steel bounded over to Sputnik’s table, and picked up the straps to a big yellow ball gag in his teeth. He brought it over to Rich.

“Good boy,” Rich praised stooping down to buckle the banana-flavored ball into Steel’s mouth. “Fair is fair!” Steel nodded, his barks muffled now. He made his way back to the starting point next to Sputnik giving him a nod. A frothy string of spit was already creeping out the corner of his mouth, and his leather-sheathed cock was twitching with arousal.

“Alright! On the buzzer, we’ll have an endurance test. Run until I blow the whistle! Ready. Set!” BZZZZZZZT!

With a jolt of adrenaline, Sputnik took off at a moderate clip. He knew he could keep this pace for as long as he needed to. Steel had a very muscular build; clear definition visible even through the leather of his suit. The dog remained shoulder-to-shoulder with the stallion as they continued around the track, goaded on by Rich’s commentary and the cheers of the crowd.

Steel was a real competitor! He’d pull ahead, trying to get Sputnik to speed up and tire. The tactic didn’t work on Sputnik, who’d run enough marathons and races to know all the tricks in the book. Steel didn’t seem too concerned about tiring himself out though, and his muscles spoke to that. Sputnik got a good look at his running mate during the stretches he was ahead.

Steel was an Australian Shepherd with a classic blue merle coat. His hind paws were white, as was his solid looking chest. He had a white band around his nose that ran up between his eyes and faded into the mottled grey of his forehead. Copper and white points in the right places to accent his body finished his look. His physique was impressive even on its own, muscles seeming to bulge out even through the leather suit. As he ran on all fours, his biceps, pecs, and glutes were particularly obvious, and from their cuddle sessions the previous days, Sputnik knew just how rock-solid they all were. But as beefy and thick as his body was, there was also stamina; they’d been running now for a long while and Steel was showing no signs of fatigue.

There was one other thing that Sputnik kept his eye on. Like the rest of the dogs, Steel did not wear a posture collar. When Steel ran faster, his head bobbed and dropped from having to work to keep his head up. There was beauty in it, an authentic effect built in to the dog suits and training, but it also meant there was a weakness. Steel’s body may be able to race all day, but the muscles of his back and neck were eventually going to tire. When they did, Steel would slow down. So if, for example Rich wanted them to do sprints or a race after this endurance run, Sputnik would have the advantage.

The stallion smiled to himself as he watched Steel fall back so they were shoulder-to-shoulder again. He held the ballgag tighter in his teeth, tasting the hints of certain victory mingling with the apple flavor. They were both grunting with the large ballgags, sprays of spit with each exhale splashing down their chests.

WHEEET WHEEEEE!! Rich’s whistle pierced the thick haze of competition. That was the signal for a sprint! The race was on, and this time Sputnik wasn’t going to slip on his own drool. The track on the gym floor was a non-slip textured rubbery material. Sputnik’s hoofs had the most perfect traction. They barreled along, the faces and voices of the spectators fading into blurs flashing by.

Rich appeared next to the track with a striped flag. The finish line! Sputnik could hear Steel grunting as he tried to catch up. The poor Aussie gained a little, then fell back, then started to gain again. In the end, Sputnik won by almost a full body length.

Their crowds both cheered as the two stood panting and catching their breath. Steel was soaked with slobber. His mouth was frothy, like he was rabid. He wagged his tail graciously as Rich announced Sputnik the winner.

“Good job, you two put on a fine show!” Rich praised. He removed their ballgags, giving them both pats on the head before turning again to the audience.

“Thank you all for joining, please see the desk to claim a 30% discount on any equine-themed gear purchase today!” Rich called to the crowd. “The showroom will be closed for a lunch break. We have food trucks in the courtyard!”

“Photos, anyone?” The photographer from the night before gestured to his camera. A queue quickly formed, with the British men clamoring to be first. They got individual shots kneeling between Sputnik and Steel, as well as a group shot with all four of them with the pair.

“Now come on!” The man with the southern drawl protested. “Let the rest of us have a shot.”

The first Brit rolled his eyes toward him, with a condescendingly polite smile . “Typical, impatient American. Always so hurried and rushed. Always so worried and mad. A pity, really… Now get over here!” He pulled the southern man into the middle of the picture. And with four cheeky grins, the Brits took their final picture and headed for lunch.

“Yeah, scamper away like roaches in daylight! Back to your tea and crumpets and yer ‘jolly good’ socialized hospitals of death panels!” The southern man muttered. He knelt by Sputnik. “I’m just kidding, those goofballs and I go way back… Fine horse you are.” He took a bandana out of his pocket, and mopped his brow before giving the camera a cocky smile. “And good dog you are!” He gave Steel a scritch under the chin. “I expect these good boys get lots of treats for this,” he said to the photographer, handing him a couple dollars as tip.

“Yessir, they will!” The photographer assured. “Thank you! Your photos will be ready after lunch!”

“Excellent!”

Once the photos were taken, the room emptied quickly. Ian and several other handlers scurried about tidying and cleaning. Steel came up and gave Sputnik a nuzzle.

“Woof.” Steel nudged Sputnik towards a gap in the curtain, behind which was another curtain spanning the full length of the gym. True to his breed’s nature, Steel herded the stallion through yet another gap, into a sort of makeshift resting area. There was a floor matt and bean-bag chairs to rest on, bowls of water, plates of bone-shaped biscuits and other snacks, and a couple of regular folding chairs were stacked against the wall. Steel patted the matt with his paw with a soft bark, indicating the horse should rest. The aussie padded over to a blue plastic disk on the floor, waving his paws over it. He hesitated a moment before waving his paw over the disk again, more slowly this time. With a confused look, Steel backed away from the disk for a few seconds before stepping up to it again and slowly waved his right paw over it again. Was something supposed to be happening?

“Sorry Steel,” a voice made them both jump. “I’m keeping you in dog mode, I’m sure you’ll understand why.” The voice belonged to a man in a Navy uniform, who stepped through the flap in the curtain. He wore a rather sultry smile. Steel gave a low growl of frustration, but his wagging tail told the truth.

“Good dogs like you!” Steel’s tail was wagging fast, and his leather clad cock was hard again. “Yeah, you’re a good dog!” The Navy guy fed Steel a biscuit, and then got up and approached Sputnik.

“You must be Sputnik!” He said. “Master Chief Petty Officer Williamson. You can just call me Dale.” Dale handed Sputnik a biscuit.

“So we’re just going to chill back here, and maybe watch the presentation. Alden said it was ok, and The Admiral trusts him, which means it’s ok for you… I’m the PR manager for a highly classified SEAL team, which means I don’t get share anything. The whole top-secret, classified thing makes my work impossible. You’d think someone would have noticed how pointless my job is by now. Ah well, at least now I have a captive audience I can explain stuff to!” Dale’s voice took on an almost giddy tone as he pulled the two leather pets close to him on either side. “So this will be fun!”

Steel rolled his eyes.

“But since it is top-secret, I do have to ensure neither of you is compromising security…” Dale took some high-security handcuffs out of his pocket, quickly cuffing Steel’s paws behind his back. He pocketed the key before turning to Sputnik and cuffing his hoofs behind his back. Steel and Sputnik both sat on their knees, legs folded in their leather suits and their hands cuffed behind them. Dale moved them both over to the curtain and then pulled up a beanbag chair for himself, settling in between the two restrained captives. He then pulled the curtain aside.

Sputnik gasped. They were overlooking the aquatic center, well, what had been the aquatic center. The pool had been raised or heightened about halfway to the ceiling at the far end. Between them and the wall of water, several rows of chairs had been set up bleacher-style. Uniformed men occupied each chair, and in the middle sat The Admiral and what could be assumed was his entourage. Everyone appeared to be talking casually, but there was no sound.

“We’re separated by a bulletproof glass wall,” Dale explained. “You’ll need earbuds to hear the presenter.” He pressed earbuds next to the ears of Sputnik’s hood. The sound of indistinct chatter from the room could be heard. “Can you still hear me talk too?” Sputnik nodded.

“Do you want see or hear this, boy?” Dale asked Steel. Steel shook his head, whimpering audibly. “Aww that’s right. Sorry boy.” Dale patted the dog’s head. “Well you know what you can do then…” He unbuttoned his pants and pulled out his cock. Steel immediately shuffled over and swallowed it down his throat, sucking it deep and quietly.

“Steel here has a fear of water. Can’t stand the stuff.” Dale explained to Sputnik. “See, he’s a retired army lieutenant. Served over in, well, everywhere. A few years ago, we volunteered for an experimental therapy program to treat PTSD. It basically dog-trained him. The program was successful enough that it’s a standard procedure. New recruits go through it as part of basic, and everyone gets it again upon returning from deployment. Officers can elect to use it as a vacation or to recharge. Officers also get to choose their breed, thus why Steel has a real suit. The others get a standard tan color. The program has been super effective, and allows the military to retain personnel, so it’s both an effective treatment and it’s cost effective, which the Pentagon and the taxpayers love. But yeah, they have two dog training facilities, and a third one just opened overseas that’s supposedly really nice. This one’s still the original, and the staff training still only happens here.”

Sputnik immediately thought of Gunner and Rex. Were they part of this program, he wondered.

“…It was dream come true for me of course,” Dale continued. “Getting to train my straight army pal I’d always had a crush on. Super masculine as a man, but the training made his dog personality a complete cock hound. So I just keep him in dog mode all the time! It’s a win-win for us.” Dale chuckled.

Dale was truly the gayest-sounding man Sputnik had ever met. It seemed almost at odds with the uniform he wore. Speaking of which, the more he looked at it, the more Dale’s uniform looked like it was made of…

“Oh yeah, we don’t wear standard uniforms,” Dale piped back up. “SEAL Team X is a highly classified unit that The Admiral formed as a testing group for all sorts of kinky shit. Sure, they do combat missions like everyone else, but there’s always some element to it that other units don’t handle as well. It was all part of The Admiral’s revamp and modernization of the entire US Navy. I tell you, the man is a visionary. Brilliant. He can see the future. It’s insane. But yeah, SEAL Team X uniforms are made of this synthetic leathery material that is completely immune to acids, poisons, allergens, electric shocks, fire… It even resists bullets and knife blades. It is a moderate weight, and again, feels just like leather. Best part, is we can wear them in public without being disrespectful because no one knows the unit exists, and on closer inspection these just look like fetish costumes. Pretty cool, huh?”

“Yeah, covert cock-sucking was part of his training. Comes in really handy…” Dale mused. “Ah, here we go!” He nodded to the window.

“Good evening, we will begin the presentation shortly.” It was Alden! Sputnik sat forward. Was Alden part of this kinky SEAL unit too?

“No, Alden’s just a really good friend of ours,” Dale said as if reading Sputnik’s thoughts. “The Admiral sees him like son, but it all started when he won a contract, I believe for the original design and material for our uniforms. Or was it for the dog training first? I can’t remember. Alden’s done some great work in bringing The Admiral’s vision to reality.”

Sputnik sighed with relief. As much as he respected military careers, he wasn’t sure he’d be the best partner for someone as intense as a SEAL. He watched as Alden walked back to the podium.

“Thank you, gentlemen. We’ll begin now.” The lights dimmed slightly, and the huge tank was illuminated. Sputnik squinted as something in the tank moved. Like a shadow floating in the night, it glided through the water unseen. The lights turned up, revealing… A sea lion!?

Alden smiled. “Welcome to SeaWorld. Flipper here is going to show you a few tricks, like catching fish and throwing beach balls.”

There was dead silence. A screen above the tank flashed on, and an image not unlike the graphics of a video game appeared. Alden continued:

“Flipper is navigating the maze shown on the screen above, via a virtual reality visor. Of course, there are no physical obstacles inside the tank, but Flipper doesn’t know that. In fact, he’s completely oblivious to all of this.”

Lights inside the tank began to flash. Flipper continued to navigate the virtual maze, unfazed and seemingly unaware of the light show.

“Even vibrations…” A rap song began to play, its heavy bass and beat being pumped into the tank, making the surface vibrate. Monitors set on the wall of the tank registered the decibels. Still, Flipper continued gracefully moving independently of the beats and sounds.

“Now let’s take all this away…” The lights, music, and maze disappeared. The image on the screen changed to an underwater view, a live stream of what Flipper was seeing. The picture of a roomful of uniformed men came into focus as the sea lion approached the glass, diving down and swimming along the edge.

“This is interesting,” Dale whispered. “I’m not exactly sure what the pitch is though.”

“I see a lot of confused faces here,” Alden smiled. “It may be best to have an interactive demonstration.” He turned to the commander. “Commander?”

The commander nodded to the first five men in the front row. They stood to attention.

“As discussed!” The commander said.

“Yes Sir!” The five volunteers barked. They marched over to the wall, stripping their uniforms off until they stood naked. Their chiseled bodies showing off unequaled physical strength and conditioning.

Meanwhile Alden had a begun a slideshow of various charts, graphs, and pictures of Flipper swimming.

“This suit is made up of a synthetic rubber. It is also a composite of many layers, in which are buried hundreds of microchips and computers. The rubber is both an insulator AND a conductor, to eliminate the need for wiring. It uses an advanced supercomputer to navigate and communicate. The material is nearly indestructible. It can withstand shock, pressure, heat, and temperature extremes. It even protects against harpoons.” Computer rendered images of a smiling Flipper being hit by a propellor, swimming through a submarine volcanic eruption, buried under a landslide, being chased by whalers, and lounging on an iceberg flashed on the screen.

“The suit’s supercomputer and electronic systems are powered by Spectrum panels in the eyes. These sensitive panels can capture the entire spectrum light and radiation, both visible to the eye, and not. The protective lenses both refract and magnify the input, so as to be fully effective even if there is no visible light. In addition, the suit harnesses the wearer’s body heat, friction against the water, and can even store unused energy in the layers of the material. The result is access to an unlimited amount of electrical energy, allowing the use of extremely advanced electronic equipment in the suit.”

“Navigation is mostly automated. The system prevents unwanted collisions, but also makes the divers appear like true wild animals on radar, and other sensors. It also creates a sort of electro-magnetic barrier which protects the system from being remotely hacked, hijacked, jammed, or other otherwise compromised. These systems protect the suit and the diver from sonic shock waves, sonar, and other harm. In the unlikely event that the diver loses consciousness, a recovery system will be activated, which will auto-pilot the suit back to its base while sustaining the life of the diver inside.”

Alden nodded again to the commander. The five naked SEALs marched up and took a package from him. Each package was a vacuum-packed suit, which the men began to pull onto their bodies. They didn’t look any different from the typical one-piece neck-entry rubber body suit. The suit covered everything except the face.

The first of the five stayed next to Alden at the podium, while the other four climbed the stairs to the top of the tank. Alden’s demo continued:

“Sight is provided by a virtual reality mask. Nanites complete the suit upon activation.” Alden helped strap a large black ball gag into the SEALs mouth. “The ball houses the main computer chips, as well as keeping the operator from making non-animal noises. It also allows for nourishment via tubes that can be sucked on. For long sessions, sea water can be distilled and filtered for hydration on demand, and the same process pulls breathable air out of the water. Kind of like gills. I will now activate the nanites to complete the suit now.” Alden entered a code into his tablet.

The SEAL’s face was suddenly covered by living grey rubber. The arms and legs of the suit were also mottled with the grey. Five new feeds flashed up on the screen, the views of each of the five SEALs.

Alden continued entering into his tablet. The demo SEAL’s legs were forced together, the nanites fusing them tightly together, and fanning out past the feet and forming fins. Similarly, his arms were bent at the elbows like a dolphin’s pectoral fins. The SEAL suddenly toppled onto his side as the tiny grey nanites finished the suit. Audible groans and an indignant chuff was heard, and he bucked wildly.

“The nanites complete the integration by plugging up the urethra and anus. The penis plug will help prevent erections, to aid in efficient swimming by reducing drag. The butt plug can now house computer chips and equipment like the gag. Both also are essential for waste management during long dives.”

The rubber-coated creature flopping on the floor no longer looked like a human in a fancy diving suit. He truly looked like a beached dolphin.

Four splashes were heard as the SEALs by the tank dove in, swimming in graceful easy-looking circles.

“Communication between several divers is sent in codes that match frequencies of the actual animals.” Alden continued as the four SEALs suddenly assembled a tight formation and began to swim in unison. “Thus allowing for absolute covert communication. Ear pieces allow the divers to receive messages, orders, communications easily. Once integrated with the system, divers can learn to communicate as well, even with the gag in place. With the suit able to sustain itself with an infinite power supply, water, oxygen, and stealth capabilities, it can allow for any number of underwater missions. They can also be operated remotely as drones… And now for simple demonstration.”

Alden stepped away from the podium, allowing the audience to watch the show. The four SEALs had been given a mission over their communication devices, and they were now constructing a piece of an anchor using materials and welding torches on the bottom of the tank. The nanites forming their dolphin fins had retracted, allowing use of the arms and hands. Within five minutes the team had finished their project, which now appeared to be a stockade of some sort. Instructions were being displayed on each of the feeds, for a new mission. The SEALs were to capture and restrain Flipper in the contraption they’d just built. Flipper was instructed to resist capture, but of course he had no chance against the coordinated attack of four well-trained SEALs. The SEALs herded Flipper into the trap, not unlike the way dolphins hunt schools of fish in the wild. As soon as Flipper was in place, the lead SEAL’s nanites released his arms and he pulled the restraint bar across Flipper’s body and they were quickly welded in place. The SEAL gave his team and the audience a quick thumbs-up before the nanites locked his arms back into fins.

“There it is,” Dale said breathlessly. “The Admiral will like this. VERY much.”

Sputnik looked at The Admiral. His eyes were narrowed in thought as he watched the SEALs frolic through the window like an aquarium show, teasing their captive with slaps of their fins. Sputnik watched Alden as he knelt down and petted the bucking SEAL on the floor. What a smart man he was to think this stuff up himself! Here he’d thought the dog and horse suits were detailed and intense, but these rubber dolphin suits were incredible!

“Heh, nervous now are we? Wondering just what you’re getting into?” Dale mentioned casually. “Don’t be. Alden’s a great guy, he needs someone like you. Well, not a horse gimp, but you know what I mean. He’s a giver. He’ll give you everything, and what he needs is a man who will take it all from him who won’t expect it or take him for granted. You know how it’s been for him. Lucky you two, I have a feeling you can prove there’s magic in this world. Oooooh! I bet you’ll have a fairytale wedding!! Only super kinky, like if the villains were getting hitched. Hahaha!”

Sputnik wasn’t listening. He was lost again, looking at Alden. He loved him before, but now it was like falling in love all over again. Alden was wrapping up, having answered a few questions and gone over more technical details. The four SEALs in the tank had lined up by the glass. Suddenly, the nanites forming their noses and fins changed shape, looking less dolphin-like.

“…And with a push of a button, we have turned these Navy SEALs into, well, navy seals!”

A chuckle and some scattered applause swept through the room. Alden wore a proud smile as the men rose from their seats to gather around for a closer look at their seal suits.

A grunt from Dale caught Sputnik’s attention. He was still balls-deep in Steel’s mouth. Steel had been sucking him the whole time, without a sound! Not a slurp, nor a gasp. Sputnik was still feeling the effects of all the aphrodisiacs from before. His cock was throbbing and aching now watching the SEAL squirm on the floor in front of his kinky unit, and high-ranking officers and The Admiral. Nevermind the covert blowjob going on right next to him.. How much longer was this day going to go on for!? He shuffled over to the water bowl for a drink. After all the predicaments he’d been put through, having his hands cuffed behind him wasn’t as much of a challenge at it would have been. He could still hear Alden speaking through his earbuds.

The Admiral had stepped up to him. “Good work, Alden. You were right to call me for this new development. I will authorize cooperation for further refinements, testing, and you have my support and the Pentagon’s funding. Of course, you know this must remain classified.”

Alden beamed. “Yes, as per our usual agreement.”

“Excellent.” The Admiral smiled. “Talk to Martin. The two of you can figure out the rest.”

“Thank you so much, Admiral.” Alden nodded. “I wanted to suggest, if I may, a potential new recruit for you. I believe he could be SEAL Team X material.”

“Is it Flipper? Yes, I did wonder about him. Tell me, while we find Williamson to set up an interview…”

Dale rolled his eyes. “Fuck, this is a really a bad time for this…” He was nearing his climax, humping into Steel’s throat. “Come on, boy, finish me fast!” Steel seemed to furrow his brow, and Dale reached down massaging the dog’s throat around his cock. “Ohh… Fffffffuuuuckk!” A hard, sloppy choking sound issued from Steel as his master came. He swallowed with great difficulty trying not to drown from the load being dumped in his gullet.

Dale sighed, panting briefly. “Good. Good dog, Steel. Such a good boy…” He let Steel milk the last drops out and clean him off.

“He’s such a good cocksucker,” Dale winked at Sputnik. “I’d share him if we had more time, but I know you’re-”

“Williamson.” The curtain swished aside as The Admiral stepped through with Alden right behind. “We have a new recruit for you. Alden’s filled me in, and can get an interview whenever you’re ready to be professional…”

Dale grinned as he proudly stuffed his still-hard dick into his pants and rebuttoned the fly. “Right away, Sir!” He said cheekily patting Steel on the head. He lazily removed the cuffs from Steel and Sputnik.

The Admiral was unfazed. “Go see Rich about talking to Flipper. You have the file from Alden.”

“Ha. Sarge and his titanium alloys… Well ok, then. This does look promising. As soon as we get him uninstalled from that tank. Even if we’re just going to re-install him as an ornament afterwards!” Dale and The Admiral left to find Rich.

“Come on you two,” Alden patted his thigh. “You still have a showroom to dazzle!”

“Woof!” Steel wagged his tail and stayed at Alden’s heel. Alden placed his hand on Sputnik’s shoulder and guided him back through the curtains to the showroom, caressing him. Sputnik nuzzled back at Alden the whole way.

Ian was finishing up a sale when Alden and Sputnik returned to the table. “Hey guys!” He called cheerily. “Alden, you just missed the ranchers. They were hoping to meet you.”

Alden raised an eyebrow. “Oh the ranchers, the ones who put in that custom order. Yes, I saw it. They want eight bull suits with all the appropriate accessories. Dang… Well the suits and equipment will need to be delivered, so I guess I’ll volunteer to to that.”

“Damn! I wanted to go…” Ian fake pouted. “You’ll have to take a video of their ‘bull fights,’ because that sounds like a hot time.”

“Well it’s not for a while. You know how long it takes to make a brand new design like that. We’ll have to test it first, so maybe you can participate in a bull fight yourself huh?” Alden winked. “For now, let’s get back to the tasks at hand. Sputnik here needs his bit.”

Sputnik huffed impatiently. Not that he wanted to be sputtering and drooling on that horrid little bar per say, but he knew he shouldn’t be kept waiting either. Ian rolled his eyes.

“Yeah yeah, stud. Patience.”

“Stallions are not known for their patience, Ian. You should know that.”

“But he’s a new stallion.” Ian whined. “He’s not supposed be this cocky yet!”

“Guess you trained him too well then.” Alden smirked.

“Fuck yeah I did!” Ian puffed his chest out.

“Oh hush, or I’ll get your bridle out.”

“Actually, I think I hear someone calling for Mascot. You ought to go change quickly before they leave disappointed!” Ian teased.

It wasn’t a joke though. Rich was calling through the headset. “Alden? Mascot? You there somewhere? The photographers missed their shots earlier…”

“…And that’s how the system works. Just enter the code, it will sync with the other devices and systems, and you’ll always have the final say.” Dave, one of the other pup trainers walked up with Frank and Tristan, the two firemen from earlier. “The other benefit of the electronic locks of course, is the aesthetic. No zippers, buckles, or locks even. See here, Steel’s got them on his paws.”

Upon hearing his name, Steel sat up, with both paws up like he was begging. Dave took one of his paws and pointed to the area where the paw mitt joined the sleeve.

On Sputnik’s suit, there were zippers that were concealed under velcroed flaps. He could see Steel’s was different, sleeker, even more seamless looking.

“We’ve got the order in, Alden.” Dave said. “You’ll have the specs by the end of the day.”

Another man, this one in a police shirt walked up.

“Ah, Chief Sharp! Glad you made it!”

“I had an hour, and I figured why not? Good to see you all out and about for fun.” Chief Sharp gave Frank and Tristan each a hug, and a handshake to Alden. “So, you tell me you found a mascot for the station?” He asked Frank.

“I think so!”

“Is this him?” Sharp gave Steel a pat on the head. “He’s certainly strong…”

“No actually,” Tristan cut in. “This one is…”

They turned to look at the picture on Dave’s tablet. Sputnik strained to look. It was…

“Tanner!?” Alden and Ian said together.

“Wow, congrats!” Alden said.

“I’ll be damned…” Ian gasped. “And now I owe Rich ten bucks…”

“Woof woof!!” Tanner bounded over, as if on cue. His tail wagging, and his tongue lolling happily and he stumbled to a stop at Frank’s feet. He nuzzled eagerly at Frank’s thigh as Frank and Tristan stroked his back.

Chief Sharp raised his eyebrow as Tanner whined and shoved his nose into Frank’s crotch. “Cute.” He remarked. “The guys will like him, I’m sure. How long until he gets his spots? Three weeks? Or will you just take him now?”

Spots? Tanner looked up at Sharp, looking between the two Chiefs in curiosity.

“I mean, you’ve had your eye out for a dalmation for what, 30 years?” Tristan suggested.

Dave chimed in. “We can make a dalmation suit for Tanner.”

Frank was quiet, as he ruffled Tanner’s head. They locked eyes, Tanner’s tail had slowed to almost a stop. Sputnik could see an almost glassy look in the golden retriever’s eyes. That look that was somewhere between longing, hope, and despair. He’d seen that look a few times before.

“No,” Frank finally said after a long moment. “No, I wanted a dalmation. But I want Tanner more. A golden retriever is going to be-” Frank’s sentence was never finished, as he was knocked over and smothered with licks, nuzzles, and slobbery dog kisses. Tanner’s tail was wagging so fast it seemed to have disappeared. Frank chuckled happily.

Tristan and Sharp laughed. Alden and Dave smiled, while Ian just stared. Sputnik smiled too. Good for Tanner, he thought. That horny pup will be taken care of by a stationhouse of bored horny firemen. The thought make his cock twitch. Speaking of horny, and being taken care of… He butted his head against Alden’s side with a whinny.

Alden gave him a wink. “Soon, boy. I promise.” He brushed Sputnik’s lips with his fingers. The horny stallion nickered softly as he kissed his handler’s fingers. His cock was painfully erect. He wanted him so badly now! He stomped his hoofs and whimpered huffily.

“Ok, stud…” Alden guided Sputnik through the door into another rest area, shutting the door behind them. He had the horse lay on his side, and he brushed his hand over his flank.

“Easy there, you’ve had a very long day.” Alden soothed. “The first show is always the hardest.” Sputnik nodded as much as the posture collar allowed him to. Until right now he hadn’t been aware of how fast his mind had been racing, how tired he was, and how horny he was. He let out an anguished cry.

“Shhh, you’re alright stud.” Alden’s voice was so sweet and calming. Sputnik furrowed his brow, fighting himself. He wanted to calm down, but his body wouldn’t let him. Alden’s eyes held concern. With a light touch, he cupped his hand around Sputnik’s cock. The stallion instantly brayed and arched his back hard, his cock throbbing painfully.

“How many sugar cubes have you had today? More than 12?”

Sputnik nodded. He’d had way more than that…

Alden shook his head. “Damn… Ian must’ve left the bucket out. Well that explains it.”

Sputnik was desperate. He rolled onto his back with his legs splayed. He bucked wildly into the air, tears running hotly from his eyes. He was so horny it hurt!

His handler nodded and typed something into his tablet. “You’re going to be ok, stud.” He said softly. “But I’m afraid tonight isn’t going to be as special as we were hoping it would. Don’t worry, I promise we’ll have a special night together soon.”

Sputnik was trying hard to listen to his handler’s word. He felt overheated, like the blood was rushing through his ears. His cock felt like it was about to burst, but not in a pleasant way. Was this what a drug overdose felt like? It must be, because that’s what was going right for sure. All those aphrodisiacs.. Damn it!

Someone rolled a cart into the room, and helped Alden put the overwhelmed stallion onto it. Sputnik was strapped to it, it had a cushion on it. The cart was wheeled down the hall to an elevator. Then down an unfamiliar hallway to a padded room. Sputnik was lifted onto a padded table, still on his right side. His right limbs were strapped down, and his left limbs were raised up by some more harness straps. A padded leather bag was strapped over his face like a muzzle. It hugged his face, blindfolding him as well as muffle any sounds he made.

Alden stroked his head and hoof while the other man strapped a harness around Sputnik’s hips. A soft squishy tube was placed over his engorged cock, causing the stallion to buck hard. Suddenly, the tube began to squeeze and pump his cock at a moderate pace.

“MMMMMMPHHHH!!!” Sputnik brayed. His mind went blank as his cock was given all the attention it wanted all at once.

“Hush, just relax now.” Alden’s voice whispered in his ear. “You’ll feel better in no time stud.” He kissed the horse’s forehead, and fondled his hoof. “I have to go now, but Eric here is going to stay until I come back. Just relax and let-”

“MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMGGHHHHHHHHH!!!” Sputnik roared in his muzzle as he came violently into the milker. “MMMM HMMMM!! MM… MMMM… HMmmpphh…”

“…The machine do what it does.” Alden petted his stallion’s heaving flank. “He’s had way too many cubes,” he said to Eric. “I’d say just milk him until the loads are smaller, but not until he’s dry shooting. I’ll take him when I come back.”

Sputnik was in a daze. Floating in a world of leather and lust, oblivious to everything else. Even the table under him didn’t seem to exist. It was just him, his cock, and the tube. And the faraway voice of Alden soothing him through another orgasm. He wanted him to cum. Cum more, like the alpha stallion he was. Not into a tube, but into a tight throat or butt. Like his own. Like Mascot’s. He would, only so happily. No need to ask twice. He could see Mascot, tied to a breeding post, paws hobbled with cuffs and a big red ball stuffed in his muzzle. Sputnik would mount him, and breed his German Shepherd hard and fast. He’d fuck him all night, until they were both dry shooting. Yet still, they’d beg each other for another round. That’s how they’d do it…

“Good morning, Sputnik!” Ian’s voice broke through the haze of sleep. “Big day for you!”

Like the days before, Sputnik was given breakfast out of the metal pan. Still a messy ordeal, but it was breakfast all the same. Ian brought him into a tiled locker room. First thing to go was the posture collar, followed by the bridle and bit. Each of the cuffs was removed, and the hoof-mitts unlocked. The great leather hood was taken off, Brett blinking and working his jaw a bit. Ian took care with the boots, gently massaging Brett’s cramped feet, calves, and hamstrings. Once the leather had all been removed, Brett was ushered into a nice hot shower. At long last, he removed the horse tail plug from his ass. He’d never quite gotten used to its size, and it felt great to get that thing out of him.

Brett felt his head spinning as he cleaned himself of the sweat and stiffness that had built up over the last few days. He leaned back against the wall and shook his cock hard, stroking his full length for the first time in days. He’d missed his own tool. That leather sheath had kept it at least semi-erect, constantly keeping him horny and ready for action. Brett sighed as he came, his load shooting to the floor with such force that every spurt ricocheted off the tile and ending up on the wall. Fuck, he’d been horny. Even after the previous night’s milking. He slowly coaxed out the last drops and fondled his balls. They’d been frustrated all this time too, bound up with a leather ring and a strap separating them. They were sore now, but freedom felt good as he rubbed them tenderly.

Brett rinsed and toweled himself off. He found his clothes waiting for him on a hanger. Clothes felt odd now. Loose, unflattering, awkward even. Brett did notice improved posture as he glanced in the mirror. His neck and back looked perfectly aligned, and he looked taller. He smiled, checking himself out. Even if the method had been grueling, it had made a significant difference. In only three days… Three days!? It felt like weeks! Guess time flies when you’re having fun, he thought to himself. He’d have to get a metal trough to eat out on occasion. He’d also have to stop by the store and get some oats, carrots, and apples. Why did he have to work tomorrow? Brett groaned as he thought through all the things we wanted and needed to do. But all that was forgotten as he stepped back out into the store.

Mascot waited by the counter, sitting next to a suitcase and several bags adorned with the store’s logo and his face. His leathered body looked like it had been cleaned and polished to a semi-gloss shine, and a festive ribbon adorned his collar. His tail wagged as Brett stepped into view. Rich waved from the counter.

Brett looked at the receipt, not unlike the type found at any retailer. Itemized listings of each of the leather goods and their prices, last but not least the simple words “one dogslave.” The total was…

“Zero!?” Brett asked incredulously. “How can that be?”

Rich smiled. “You have enough store credit to cover this purchase, as well as any others you may have in the future. In addition, you both have employee discounts. And, since Mascot will still work here during the days we can also factor in the friends and family discount too!” Rich lowered his voice. “Besides… it’s the least we can do, Mascot’s been looking for a good home for so long, we’d just about given up hope. We’re all so happy for you both.” He cleared his throat. “Now then! Just one more signature, that you understand our return policy.”

Brett looked at the paper outlining the store’s return policy. He looked down at Mascot, who whimpered with a sad sort of look in his eyes. Brett shook his head.

“That won’t be necessary.” He tore the paper in half. “There will be no return of this sweet pup.” Rich beamed, brushing the torn sheet aside.

“Excellent! There’s a car here to take you. On the house, as discretion is one of our guarantees. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Wilson!” He extended his hand.

“Brett.” He replied with a smile, shaking Rich’s hand. He then knelt down to Mascot, giving him a kiss on the nose and a big smile as he clipped the leash to his collar.